“More frequently lately,” Riley admitted grimly. “The rogue activity has been escalating for months. Usually it’s just probing attacks, testing our defenses. But this…” She gestured toward the wounded messenger who was now being treated by one of the facility’s medics.
Before I could respond, the main doors burst open again. This time, it wasn’t a messenger -it was a parade of carnage.
Warriors streamed through the entrance carrying their wounded comrades, their faces grim with exhaustion and barely controlled fury. The scent of blood filled the air so completely that I had to fight not to gag. My wolf whimpered in my mind, overwhelmed by the pain and trauma radiating from the injured wolves.
“Here!” Riley called out, directing the first group of carriers toward the examination tables. “Most critical injuries first! Anyone who can walk gets treated after we handle the life-threatening cases!”
I watched in horror as they laid out the casualties. The first warrior they brought in was barely conscious, his tactical vest torn away to reveal massive claw marks that had raked across his chest from shoulder to sternum. Blood seeped through the field bandages someone had applied, and his breathing was shallow and labored.
“Internal damage,” Riley muttered, her hands already moving over his injuries with practiced assessment. “Possible punctured lung. Sera, I need you to hold pressure here while I get the surgical kit.”
My hands shook as I pressed the gauze against the worst of the wounds, feeling the sticky warmth of his blood seeping through the fabric. The warrior’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy with pain.
“Am I gonna make it?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“You’re going to be fine,” I told him, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. “Just stay with me, okay? Help is coming.”
More injured wolves were brought in, creating a chaotic symphony of groans, urgent medical conversations, and the constant shuffle of feet as the medics worked to save lives. I found myself moving from patient to patient, following Riley’s terse instructions, doing whatever I could to help.
That’s when they brought in Lucas.
Damien’s beta was unconscious, his usually perfect sandy brown hair matted with blood, his left arm hanging at an unnatural angle that suggested multiple fractures. But it was the massive wound on his thigh that made my breath catch -deep gashes that looked like they’d been made by claws the size of kitchen knives.
Riley’s sharp intake of breath told me everything I needed to know about how serious it was.
“Oh no,” she whispered, her professional composure finally cracking as she took in Lucas’s condition. “No, no, no. Not Lucas.”
I watched her face crumble with an emotion that went far beyond professional concern for a fellow pack member. Her hands trembled as she reached out to check his pulse, and tears spilled down her cheeks despite her obvious efforts to maintain control.
“Riley?” I asked gently, though I already suspected what I was seeing.
“The wound is complicated,” she managed, her voice thick with tears as she began cutting away the torn fabric of his tactical pants to get a better look at his injuries. “God, Sera, look at him. Look what they did to him.”
The wounds were even worse once exposed -deep, ragged tears that had severed muscle and possibly nicked the femoral artery. Blood was seeping steadily despite the field dressings, and Lucas’s skin had the pale, clammy look of someone going into shock.
“He needs surgery,” Riley said, her voice hollow with desperation. “We need to get him to Silver Moon Harbor General, and even then…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. Even with werewolf healing abilities, injuries this severe could be fatal if not treated immediately.
I stared down at Lucas’s unconscious form, this man who’d been nothing but kind to me, who’d welcomed me into the pack and defended me against those who questioned my presence. The thought of losing him made something fierce and desperate rise in my chest.
That’s when it happened.
Just like the night I’d fought Valerie, something stirred deep inside me -not rage this time, but something warmer, more purposeful. My right hand began to tingle, then grow warm, then actually glow with a soft white light that seemed to emanate from my palm like captured moonbeams.
“What the hell -” Riley started, but her words died as the light pulsed brighter.
I didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t question the impossibility of what I was seeing. All I knew was that Lucas was dying, Riley was breaking apart, and something inside me was responding to their pain with power I’d never felt before.
Without conscious thought, I placed my glowing hand over the worst of Lucas’s wounds.
The effect was immediate and miraculous. The ragged edges of the deepest gash began to knit together, flesh regenerating at a speed that defied everything I thought I knew about healing. The bone fragments in his shattered arm shifted and fused, the unnatural angle straightening as fractures healed. Even the blood loss seemed to reverse, color returning to his pale cheeks as his body somehow replenished what had been lost.
“Oh my God,” Riley breathed, her tears forgotten as she stared at the impossible healing taking place beneath my hands. “Sera, what are you doing? How are you doing this?”
I couldn’t answer her, couldn’t do anything but focus on the warm light flowing from my hand into Lucas’s damaged body. It felt natural, like breathing or blinking -something I’d always been capable of but had never known how to access.
Around us, the chaotic noise of the medical bay had gone completely silent. Every medic, every wounded warrior, every person in the room had stopped what they were doing to stare at the omega girl whose hands glowed with healing light.
The transformation continued for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. Lucas’s breathing deepened, becoming strong and regular. The massive wounds closed completely, leaving only faint pink scars that would probably fade entirely within days. His broken arm straightened and solidified, good as new.
Finally, the light began to fade, and I swayed on my feet as exhaustion crashed over me like a tidal wave. Whatever I’d just done had drained something essential from me, leaving me feeling hollow and shaky.
Lucas’s eyes fluttered open just as the last of the glow faded from my palm.
“Riley?” he said groggily, his voice stronger than it had any right to be. “What happened? Why are you crying?”
Seraphina’s POV
The silence in the medical bay was deafening. Every eye in the room was fixed on me with expressions ranging from shock to outright disbelief, as if I’d just defied the laws of physics -which, I supposed, I had.
Lucas pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down at his leg where moments before there had been gaping wounds that would have killed him. Now there was nothing but smooth, unblemished skin, not even a scar to mark where the massive injuries had been.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked, his voice stronger than it had any right to be after the blood loss he’d suffered. His eyes found mine across the crowded medical bay, confusion and something that might have been awe flickering in their depths.
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. What could I possibly say? *Oh, apparently I can heal mortal wounds with my hands now. No big deal.*
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, staring down at my palm where the white light had emanated just moments before. The skin looked completely normal now, no different from my left hand. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
*Sera,* Ayla’s voice was small and confused in my mind. *I don’t understand what just happened. I felt this overwhelming urge to help him, and then…*
Riley reached out with trembling fingers to touch Lucas’s leg where the wounds had been, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is impossible,” she breathed. “Werewolves heal fast, but not like this. Not instantaneously. Not from injuries that severe.”
“Seraphina?”
I turned to see the warrior with the massive chest wounds struggling to sit up on his examination table, his face twisted with pain despite the field bandages Riley had applied. Blood was still seeping through the gauze, and his breathing remained labored and shallow.
Without conscious thought, I moved toward him, drawn by something deeper than sympathy “a compulsion I couldn’t name or resist. The crowd of medics and wounded warriors parted before me like I was radioactive, their whispers following in my wake.
“She healed Lucas…”
“Did you see that light?”
“What kind of wolf can do that?”
I knelt beside the warrior’s table, my hands hovering uncertainly over his injuries. “What’s your name?” I asked softly.
“Thompson,” he managed between ragged breaths. “Ben Thompson.”
“Ben, I’m going to try to help you, okay? But I need you to stay very still.”
He nodded weakly, his eyes focusing on me with desperate hope. Behind me, I could hear Riley giving quiet instructions to clear space around us, but the voices seemed distant and muffled, like I was hearing them underwater.
I closed my eyes and tried to find that warm, purposeful feeling that had guided me with Lucas. For a moment, there was nothing “just the sound of Ben’s labored breathing and the antiseptic smell of the medical bay. Then, slowly, I felt it building in my chest like a sunrise.
When I opened my eyes and placed my hands over Ben’s wounds, the white light was there again, brighter this time, pulsing with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat. The warmth flowed from me into him, and I watched in fascination as his torn flesh began to knit itself back together.
But this time was different. Ben’s injuries were more severe “deeper wounds, more damage to repair. The healing process was slower, more demanding, and I could feel it draining something essential from me with each passing second. The light began to fluctuate, growing dimmer as my energy waned.
*Sera, be careful,* Ayla warned, her mental voice tight with concern. *You’re pushing too hard. We don’t know what the limits are.*
But I couldn’t stop. Not when Ben was looking at me with such trust, not when I could see his breathing growing easier as his internal injuries healed, not when I had the power to save him. I pressed deeper into the healing trance, pouring more of myself into the light.
Around us, the whispered conversations had grown louder, more urgent.
” -never seen anything like it -“
” -what kind of bloodline -“
Ben’s eyes flew open, panic flashing across his features as the healing slowed.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered urgently. “Please, I can feel it working.”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus, pushing the fragments of memory aside. There would be time to process later. Right now, Ben needed me.
The healing continued, but I could feel myself growing weaker with each passing moment. The light was dimming despite my efforts, and spots were beginning to dance at the edges of my vision. My hands trembled where they rested on Ben’s chest, and I had to fight to keep them steady.
*Sera, stop!* Ayla’s voice was sharp with alarm. *You’re going to collapse!*
But Ben’s wounds were almost fully healed now. Just a few more minutes “
“Seraphina!”
Damien’s voice cut through everything else, sharp with command and concern. Through my fading vision, I saw him pushing through the crowd of onlookers, his face a mask of barely controlled panic.
“You need to stop,” he said, his hands settling on my shoulders. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s killing you.”
“Almost finished,” I mumbled, my words slurring slightly as exhaustion crashed over me in waves. “Just a little more…”
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